


wherever I go, you bring me home

by Anonymous



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Everybody Lives, Fluff, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-25 03:46:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17113868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Most people born with soul-marks meet their soulmate by the time they turn eighteen. At twenty-one, Derek is beginning to think that he somehow missed his chance - or that maybe his soulmate has passed.Then he comes home for the summer and meets his new neighbour, Stiles.





	wherever I go, you bring me home

**Author's Note:**

> For vyxynheartssterek who wanted something super fluffy and kate-free. I hope I did your request some justice. Merry Christmas lovely! xoxoxoxo

The end of semester that signalled the end of his third year of college came as an immense relief to Derek. 

Truly it had been a long semester and an even longer year - it felt like a lifetime had passed and his soul had aged terribly. The time for goofing off and half-assing his studies were truly long gone, the assignments more difficult and his professor's less forgiving than the years previous. By the end of the semester sleep had became a rare, foreign concept, much like his personal time. When he wasn’t studying he was working his part-time job at the bookstore - and it was only when he wasn’t doing either that he could maybe consider thinking about rest.

Derek arrives home for the summer weary, but quietly pleased. He hadn’t had the opportunity to visit his family over winter break - the bookstore needed him over the busy holiday period and, with renting an off-campus apartment this year, he wasn’t really in a position to say no to the extra cash.

It’s calming to drive through the familiar streets of his hometown, passing through downtown and into the eastern residential area closer to the preserve where he grew up. The high school he went to still looks the same as he drives past it, as does the community centre, the park. Not much ever changes in Beacon Hills.

The only real change Derek notices is when he pulls up to his house, parking on the street.

They’ve obviously had a change in neighbours if the three vehicles and removal of what Derek used to call the Garden Gnome Army from the neighbours front yard is any indication. Making a note to ask about it later, Derek trudges up to the front door, suitcase trailing behind him.

Before he reaches the door it opens with a creak, his mother appearing with a smile as she leans against the open doorframe.

Upon approach his mom pulls him into the tightest, warmest hug he’s had all year. When he buries his nose into her hair it still smells the same, all sweet shampoo and just his mom, her grip around his ever bulking frame just as tight and welcome as it was when he was a kid. She pats his back heartily and cups his cheeks when they part, inspecting his face, eyebrows drawing together upon noticing the bags under his eyes.

Before she can mother-bear him Derek draws back, smiling at her. “You cut your hair,” he comments, picking up his suitcase by the handle. “Looks good.”

“Thank you,” his mom says, palming her own hair in response, now at shoulder length. “You look tired.”

Derek rolls his eyes. She takes that as a cue to lead him up through the hallway into the kitchen where his dad and his younger sister, Cora, are waiting. The suitcase gets dropped from his grasp when Cora rushes into his side, snaking her arms around him and squeezing.

His dad comes over and claps him on the back before settling back against his wife, winding his arm around her waist. They look at each other and smile, looking like two halves of a whole. They're soulmates - literally.

“Did somebody move in next door?” Derek asks, stepping back from Cora.

Cora moves towards the fridge to grab a drink and motions her head towards their neighbours.

“Yeah, the Roberts’ moved out like, last November,” she explained, referring to their old neighbours, cracking open a can of soda. “New guys are pretty cool, it’s the new sheriff and his family.”

Derek nods disinterestedly, his dad stepping forward to pat him on the back and grab his suitcase from him.

“You look dead on your feet, kid,” his dad says, guiding Derek upstairs to his bedroom.

“M’not tired,” Derek insists, but allows himself to be led anyway. It settles some of the discontent in his chest seeing his childhood bedroom again, just the way it was when he left it. Same old bedspread, same books in his bookshelf, his baseball trophies scattered here and there and everywhere.

Sighing to himself, Derek follows the dying sunlight coming from his window and looks outside, attention caught by a dog lying on its’ back, rolling around happily neighbours yard.

When Derek closes the curtains he feels a sharp throbbing pain on his chest, over his heart, He rubs his fingers on it to soothe the ache that has become more and more familiar with time.

It’s his soul-mark.

Like the others considered to be part of the lucky sixty-six percent of the population to have one, Derek had his mark from birth. Most people do. For the most part of his life Derek had ignored it, treating it like any other freckle or scar upon his body, more interested in play or sports or friends than he was finding out about his soulmate, the ultimate love of his life. That was the sort of thing that adults fawned over, that movies and books were written about.

For a long time Derek paid it not attention and placed his faith in the inevitable eventuality of it and went about his life, figuring it would come to fruition naturally.

Now, at twenty-one, he can’t help but regret some of his youthful apathy. Statistically speaking, most people meet and recognize their soulmate bond by his age, if not younger. Most of his friends had found their Other by the time they were seventeen or eighteen - leaving Derek the only one of his friendship group unbonded.

And the longer he goes unbonded, the more his mark hurts. It’s like a burning brand pressing into his skin where the the intricate knotwork lay, a dark tattoo over his heart. When Derek was a kid a doctor told his parents that it was an uncommon spot, the wrist or the ankle being the most common places for a mark to manifest. Again, statistically speaking. He didn’t understand the uncommon placement then, and, with all research being predominantly anecdotal, he still doesn’t now.

When Derek lays down that night to sleep the pain lessens, a peaceful sense of homecoming radiating over him to lull him into slumber.

\------

 

The following morning Derek wakes late, momentarily startled when he looks at his phone to see that he has slept for fourteen hours straight.

Guilt trips him out of bed before he realizes why, already reaching for a shirt and pair of sweats. He’s one leg in before he realizes that he’s on break and doesn’t actually need to be anywhere or have any deadlines looming over him.

The rest of the day is spent lazily lounging about, enjoying home-cooked meals and making plans to catch up with his friends from high school.

Around lunch the following day Derek sets up in the backyard with a glass of lemonade, a ham sandwich and a book, lying back on the lush grass, intermittently staring up at the cloudy blue sky. The scent of jasmine filters over his other senses, filling him with an ethereal calm.

It’s nice to finally get to read something recreationally for once without the pressure of academics making reading anything a chore. At peace, Derek spends the afternoon reading to his heart's content, his sisters coming out every now and then to chat, catch up and cloud gaze with him. Now halfway through his book, Derek can’t seem to put it down. He’s so engrossed by it that he doesn’t notice frisbee that comes flying over the side of the fence until it hits him in the face.

Startled, Derek drops his book on his chest and scrambles to sit up, scanning the area to see where it might have come from.

A young man appears at the neighbours side of the fence followed by a dogs bark. The man looks to be slightly younger than Derek, all pale skin and messy brown hair.

“Sorry, dude!” The guy yells, waving at Derek. “My bad!”

Gripping the frisbee Derek makes his way over to the fence, passing it over. “Here,” Derek says.

“Thanks,” the guy says, blinking at Derek for a moment. “Uh, I’m Stiles. Are you, uh, visiting the Hales?”

Derek shakes his head, dusting the grass off his shirt. “I live here. I’m away at college during the year but I’m home for the summer.”

“Ohh... you must be Cora’s brother. Dale? Dean?”

“Derek,” he corrects, wondering how close this guy and his sister must be to know that much.

“Derek,” Stiles says, smiling. “I see Cora at school and y’know,” he says, vaguely gesturing towards the proximity of their houses. “She’s mentioned you.”

He nods, momentarily distracted by the movement off Stiles hands.

“I heard you recently moved to town. Do you like it here?” Derek asks as Stiles leans his forearms against the top of the fence.

Stiles shrugs, looking around at the towering trees that line their yards. “It’s nice.”

“Just nice?”

“Well, I mean I didn’t _love_ uprooting my life and moving towns in my last year of high school, but...it’s nice. Very green.”

A low ray of sunlight hits Stiles eyes, warming the brown so that it looks like liquid amber. Before Derek can think of a response a woman's voice yells out for Stiles from their back door.

“Coming, mom!” Stiles yells back. He smiles at Derek, waving the frisbee at him. “Thanks for this. I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah,” Derek says, watching Stiles turn around and jog back into the house, the labrador panting after him.

Derek feels overheated, like maybe he stayed in the sun too long. He grabs his book off the ground and heads back inside, following his nose to where his mom is cooking in the kitchen. His mom cups his flushed face as he leans next to her to see what smells so good.

“You look a bit hot,” she comments, letting go to stir the pasta sauce on the stove.

“Yeah, might take a cold shower,” Derek says, kissing her cheek and heading upstairs to do just that. The freezing droplets feel nice on his warm skin, cooling him from the outside in.

When Derek goes to bed later that night he is again drawn to the window, attention occupied by the circle of teenagers in the neighbours backyard, the group illuminated by the back lights, boombox playing softly and the odd bark of raucous laughter. Fondly, Derek remembers his own high school summers. He watches them for a while, having always been a bit of a people-watcher and keeping an eye on Cora, down there with them.

By the time he lays down to sleep his soul-mark burns hotter than ever before, like it’s trying to burn his skin from the inside out. In the research some people say it was the warning of a bond to come - others say it’s the yearning sign of a bond that’s been missed by time and space, usually if the other party has died or rejected their other. Sometimes the opportunity to bond comes up but goes unnoticed by either party and is forever missed as people move on.

Derek doesn’t know which it is.

\----

 

It’s just over a week later when he comes into contact with the neighbours son again.

At his father's request, Derek sets about mowing the front lawn and backyard, the grass truly getting slightly overgrown and encroaching upon a jungle-like aesthetic before Derek revs up their old mower.

The sun above is overbearing, stifling even at the mid-morning hour. Derek dons a tank top and shorts yet still sweats against the oppressive heat, wiping his forehead every few minutes to keep the droplets from falling into his eyes.

He’s halfway through completing the backyard when a football drops mere inches from the blades of the lawnmower. At least it wasn’t his face this time.

Pulling the cord and switching it off, Derek retrieves the ball from the ground, scanning the area until the familiar faces of Stiles and Cora’s friend, Scott, peers over the side of the fence, both wearing twin sheepish grins.

Rolling his eyes, Derek picks up the football and brings it over to the fence, handing it to over to Stiles.

“Your aim is shit,” Derek says with a half-smile, enjoying the shape of Stiles’ profound pout.

“That was all Scott,” Stiles protests, shoving the ball at his friend. “Dude never learnt how to handle his balls.”

Scott shoves back Stiles with a laugh before waving at Derek. “Good to see you, man. Hows’ college?”

Lifting his shoulder indifferently Derek doesn’t know what else to say other than, “Busy. Sucks.”

“Thank fuck it’s summer, right?” Stiles asks, peering across at Derek, eyes travelling down his torso and back up again to his face.

Scott agrees, directing his next question to Derek. “Hey - are you coming to the Martin lake party tomorrow?”

Erica and Boyd had mentioned it to him earlier that week and he’d said he’d think on it. Derek shrugs again, tilting his head in indecision.

“You should come!” Stiles says, reaching out to briefly squeeze Derek’s bicep, the heat of his hand feeling like an imprint once he removes it. “C’mon, it’ll be fun.”

Derek stares at Stiles lips as he speaks, follows the ways his fingers flex as he speaks, weirdly distracted by his everything.

“Okay,” Derek breathes, regretting it a second later when Stiles’ face lights up like a Christmas tree, his smile highlighting the sharp apples of his cheeks, nose scrunching up adorably.

Oh shit.  

Derek feels his cheeks go pink, his brain going tingly. “I gotta, um, go…. do something. See you there.”

He turns quickly and runs back into his house, waving back at the guys as they yell their goodbye. The back lawn his only half finished. It can wait. When he walks back into the house and heads to their kitchen for a cold drink he spots Laura and his mom, drinking wine at the dining table like it isn’t only eleven o’clock in the morning.

Derek stalks to the fridge, pouring himself a glass from a jug of refrigerated water, downing the entire thing in one go.

“Were you just talking to Stiles right now?” Laura asks from behind him.

Nodding, Derek turns to them and wipes the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, pouring himself another glass.

“Such a nice kid,” his mom comments and Laura nods in agreement, directing a steely look at Derek. “Don’t you think, Laura?”

“Yeah, totally,” Laura says, smiling. “Kinda cute too, right Derek?”

“I don’t know,” Derek says quickly, swallowing the rest of his glass before placing it in the sink. “If you’re into that, I guess.”

“You’re looking kind of flushed,” his mom comments. “You stay out too long in the sun, baby?”

“Nope, I’m fine,” he says and disappears upstairs, the sounds of their giggles following him up the stairs.

\---

 

The following day Derek spends convincing himself that he isn’t going to go to the party, even texting Erica and Boyd as much as incentive, and instead makes plans to watch Netflix all night by himself with frozen pizza as company. He even gets the pizza out to defrost and settles on Sister Act to solidify his plans.

That is until Cora knocks on his bedroom door begging for him to drive her over to the lake party.

Derek immediately declines, unmotivated to make the drive there and back, especially when the promise of not moving is on the cards. Cora whines that their parents have already started drinking and Laura is staying with her boyfriend. Unmoved, Derek still says no.

A stubborn set to her jaw, she inevitably pulls out the big guns, reminding Derek of the time she lied for him when he accidentally broke their mother's favorite vase.

“You’re the best,” Cora grins at him twenty minutes later, sliding into the passenger seat of his car. Derek just grunts in response.

He actually had to shower and get ready for this. There was no way he was going to show up in shorts and the ratty shirt he was wearing. It had nothing to do with potentially being seen by certain people - it was about taking pride in his appearance, as his grandmother would say.

When they arrive the party is already in full swing, music pumping loudly from the house, teenagers dancing or throwing up on the lawn, sometimes simultaneously. Cora departs to find her friends and Derek quickly locates Erica and Boyd, exactly where he knew they would be: in the kitchen, eating the free food.

“So you showed up after all!” Erica shouts over the music.

“Yeah, changed my mind,” he lies, clapping Boyd on the back and stealing a Dorito.

Erica looks at him suspiciously but hands him a beer anway. They makes their way through their house together, saying hello to various people and catching up after not seeing each other for so long. It’s not really Derek’s scene - the music not to his taste, the mass of sweaty bodies everywhere, the inability to have a conversation without seriously straining his vocal cords. The shitty beer, too. He gets rid of his cup real quick.

Still, it’s actually pretty great to be with friends and it’s nice to be out of the house - and if he’s here at least he can check up on Cora and make sure she’s okay.

After about an hour the heat of the house starts to get to him so he leaves Boyd and Erica where they’re dancing with their other friend, Isaac, and wanders out the back for some fresh air. He follows the grass down to the pier overlooking the lake, the echo of the music behind him, softened and quiet enough so that he can hear the sound of the lake water lapping upon the shore.

Derek sits down on the pier and takes his shoes off, letting his legs dangle over the edge, toes skimming the top of the cool water. Taking his phone out of his pocket he texts Cora to let him know when she’s ready to leave and then responds to their parents earlier text to let them know they’re not dead. His dad sends him a thumbs up emoji.

Pocketing his phone and sighing, Derek sits there on the pier for a while looking out pensively, intermittently rubbing the mark on his chest under his shirt in an absent-minded gesture.

“Hey Scotty,” yells a familiar voice behind him. “Look! Look who it is!”

At first, Derek thinks whoever it is must be referring to someone else but is quickly proved wrong when he hears the thud of footsteps on the pier from behind. Derek twists his upper body around in time for Stiles to plop beside him, throwing an arm over Derek’s shoulders as he settles.

“Hey Scott,” Derek greets as Scott stand beside them, spine tingling at the contact. “Stiles.”

Stiles grins and looks up at Scott. From this close Derek can smell the alcohol on Stiles’ breath.

“Scott, guess what. This is my neighbour, Derek. _Look_ at him - isn’t he great??”

Scott snorts behind Derek, patting Stiles’ head. “Super great. We’ve met though, Stiles.”

“Oh,” Stiles says regretfully, swaying into Derek, tightening the arm around his shoulders. “Derek, are you drinking? Do you need a drink?”

“I think _you_ need some water,” Derek says purposefully, sending a look to Scott, who nods.

“I’ll go grab some,” he says, shuffling back. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Bring me chips!” Stiles yells back, settling back against Derek’s side, a dopey grin on his face. “Hey there,” he says.

“Hey,” Derek replies, trying not to smile at the drunk version of Stiles’ touchy-feely nature. It’s kind of adorable. “You having fun?”

“Yeah,” Stiles says, swinging his legs over the side of the pier. “Are you? You seem, like, way sober.”

“I’m driving,” he explains, examining Stiles.

The guy looks happy, hair coiffed back perfectly, skinny jeans and a dark t-shirt adorning his figure, skin luminescent in the moonlight.

“Bummer,” Stiles comments, sneaker-clad feet out at the water. “You probably drink a lot at college. Do you like college? What do you study?”

“Physiotherapy,” Derek says, noticing how Stiles gaze follows Derek’s lips.

“That’s so cool. You're _so_ cool."

“Thanks,” Derek laughs, eyes flicking down Stiles lips, noticing the way they purse when talks, distracted by the way his hand strokes up and down comfortingly on Derek’s shoulder. “You off to college after summer?”

“Yeah,” Stiles says, looking out at the lake. “I’m going to study forensics.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I mean, it’s dumb, I know.”

“It’s not dumb,” Derek says. “It’s awesome.”

“Thanks,” Stiles says. “So how is it being back home? You not missing anyone back at college?”

Derek snorts, swinging his legs. “Like who?”

Stiles shrugs, shuffles closer until he is a long line of heat against Derek. “Dunno. Girlfriend? Boyfriend?”

Derek turns his head to peer at Stiles’ face, the way his lips twist and avoids Derek’s eyes in a poor imitation of casual disinterest. Pursing his lips so as not to smile he nudges Stiles knee with his own.

“Are you asking if I’m single?”

“What? _No_ ,” Stiles denies, rolling his eyes before looking into Derek’s face. “But I mean, like, are you?”

Having Stiles’ face so close to his own makes Derek’s heart beat a faster and his chest feel warm. This close he can almost count Stiles’ eyelashes, can see the way his lips glisten when he licks them.

“Yeah. I’m single.”

“That’s good,” Stiles says, then swiftly backpedals. “I mean it’s not _good_ , but y’know, I mean, like, same. Me too.”

If Stiles were a little more sober Derek would ask him how he was still single, clearly handsome and charming in his own awkward way. If Stiles were a little more sober Derek would lean over and ask to kiss him. He doesn’t get a chance to say anything at all before Stiles opens his mouth again.

“If I - would you, um…” Stiles tries, swallowing then trying again. “If I asked you, uh, would you - “

The heavy thuds of someone running on the pier cuts off whatever Stiles was going to say, although Derek has a pretty good idea. He glances behind them to see Scott bearing a plastic cup of water, the liquid sloshing out of top with his strides.

“I have water!” Scott smiles, a slight slur to his voice, passing the cup over to Stiles who removes his arm from where it’s slung across Derek’s shoulders to accept it.

Stiles gulps it down in a single go. Derek watches the way his adam's apple bobs when his swallows, the long column of his neck exposed when he tips his head back.

A sorry smile crosses Derek’s face when he gets the text from Cora that she’s ready to leave, the light from the phone when he pulls it from his pocket harsh against the dim surroundings.

“I gotta go, Cora wants to go home,” Derek says wryly, turning to Stiles who is looking down at his knees. “I’ll see you guys later?”

Scott claps his shoulder. “We’re actually off to Sacramento for a week tomorrow, but I’m sure I’ll see you around, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Derek agrees softly.

Stiles is silent for a moment, his hand coming up to rub his at his heart, exhaling lowly as he does so. Derek puts his shoes back on and stands, shuffling back a few feet. Stiles is still staring at his knees.

“Hey Stiles… ask me again when you get back,” Derek tells him, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Stiles ducks his chin, but Derek can still see the upturn of his lips.

“Okay,” he softly agrees.

Turning his back and then heading towards the house a flush comes over Derek’s cheeks.

On the drive back home he wonders if what he thinks Stiles was going to ask was a good idea after all. Stiles seems like a great guy and is gorgeous, but he’s also their neighbour and Cora’s friend - not to mention that there’s an expiry on the summer and Derek will be going back to Berkeley before long. Stiles will be off to college too.

When they get back to their house, Cora still a little tipsy, Derek decides that he’s overthinking it.

He gets ready for bed, washes his face and slips under the covers. It’s as he’s about to fall asleep that an overwhelming pain sears over his mark, as if someone were carving through the lines with a knife down to his actual heart. Curling up under the sheets Derek, grits his teeth and holds his breath, massaging the spot to try alleviate the stinging. This is by far the worst it has ever felt. The pain eventually subsides to allow Derek a restless sleep.

His mom asks about his paleness, the shadows under his eyes the following morning. Not wanting to worry he gives her the half-truth, which is that he had some trouble sleeping.

Maybe he should talk to someone about this.

 

\----

 

The next few days past by in a weird haze of boredom, Derek not being quite sure what to do with himself without the threat of tests, assignments and pre-reading hanging over him. He reads, watches TV, sees his friends, drives around town, he even thinks about writing a novel. Though he quickly nixes the idea as soon as he’s faced with a blank word document, the cursor judgmentally blinking at him for longer than he cares to admit. Some of the time he tries to pepper in some personal research about soul-marks, about why, but like _really why_ they might start hurting.

Every single academic paper provides him with the same mixed messages. It frustrates Dererk, not knowing if his soulmate is permanently missed or dead or just on the horizon. What’s he supposed to do with this ache in his chest if it’s the former, now all low thrum like a headache of the heart. Will it be like this forever?

Six days after the party Derek is bored enough to ask his mom for chores. Delight sparkles in her eyes as she directs him to the weeds in her rose garden, in the raised bed, the hedges that are crying for a trim.

With the mid-summer sun beating down on him Derek gets to work, digging his hands deep into the gritty soil and ripping the weeds from their roots with a tug, throwing them onto the grass. It’s pretty cathartic actually.

Once he’s finished with the flowers Derek moves onto the hedges, hacking away at the stray branches with garden shears like he’s the last survivor in a slasher movie, slicing towards salvation. Sure it doesn’t look like a landscapist came to visit, but it looks pretty good, Derek’ thinks, even if the hedges are slightly uneven and one fern has a mullet cut. It’ll grow back.

By noon Derek is sweating profusely without the wind or clouds to temper the sun and heads indoors for a cold drink and the respite of air conditioning.

His mom and another woman with dark hair are sitting at the dining table, drinking wine and laughing.

“Derek, this is Claudia, she’s Stiles’ mom,” Talia introduces as Derek goes to fill himself a cup of water. He smiles politely from where he is leaning against the sink and waves.

“Nice to meet you. I’d shake your hand but I’m…” he trails off, indicating towards the sweat and dirt on his body.

Claudia waves him off, smiling. He can see the resemblance to Stiles in her eyes and beauty spots. “You’re fine, it’s nice to finally put a face to the name! Are you enjoying being back from college?”

Derek downs the rest of his cup and shrugs, placing the glass in the sink. “It’s good to be home.”

He thinks Claudia says something in reply but it goes unheard when his ears start ringing and his chest suddenly feels like a blowtorch is being held against it.

Exhaling through his teeth, Derek's’ hand immediately flies up to soothe the area, rubbing as gently as he can. The pain disappears as quickly as it comes. When he looks up, a little breathless, the two women at the table stare at him in a mixture of alarm and concern.

“Honey, are you okay?” His mom asks, putting her glass down and frowning. “What was that?”

Derek shakes his head, not really keen to go into it all right now, but not sure he can quite get out of it this time.

“I’m fine,” he assures her, gesturing vaguely to his chest. “It’s just... my mark.”

His mother's frown deepens as she shares a worried look with Claudia. “Has it been hurting? For how long?”

Uneasy, Derek scratches at his stubble and crosses his arms over his chest. “I don’t know. Since like, November?”

“ _Derek_.”

“It’s _fine_ , mom. It goes away.”

Claudia cuts in, speaking softly. “Sometimes when a mark is close to vital organs the pain can be more intense.”

“...It’s over my heart,” Derek admits.

Claudia's face does a weird thing, her eyes widening and mouth falling open slightly. She immediately turns to Talia and whispers something in her ear. Whatever she says must be juicy as his moms’ jaw drops, her hand coming down to slap the table. Once they’re finished whispering Derek gets twin reassuring smiles.

“I’m sure it’s just the placement, as Claudia said,” his mom assures, pouring herself another glass of wine. “Are you dating anyone, Derek?”

Whiplashed by the sudden change in conversation Derek sends her a weird look.

“What? No, why?”

“No reason. Stiles is coming back tomorrow, right Clauds?”

Claudia beams. “Why, yes he is.”

Going red in the face, Derek makes a hasty exit. “I’m going to go finish the hedges, bye.”

Claudia waves at him, grinning cheerfully and calls out to him. “Nice to meet you!”

 

\----

 

The following day Derek wakes up in a funk having tossed and turned all night, barely getting a few hours sleep. Laura and Cora mock his grouchy face over breakfast that morning and the way he grunts his way through the conversation.

He lounges around the house, plays a few rounds of Mario Kart with Cora before getting bored. He tries to read a book but keeps zoning out. By lunch Derek is not only bored out of his brain but is unable to concentrate on anything more complex than making a sandwich. He makes three and eats them all.

Figuring he just needs to exhaust his body, Derek grabs the shovel from the garage and heads to the backyard. His dad wants to plant a line of trees by a far section of their fencing, though recently hurt his back and shelved the project, so Derek decides to be helpful for once.

He starts digging. Using his foot on the head of the shovel to force it in deeper into the ground, dirt goes flying. Derek tries to keep it to a relatively uniform pile and soon breaks out into a sweat. It’s hard work, he can’t imagine doing this everyday, even if the burn in his muscles is pleasant.

After a while the summer heat becomes too much and Derek takes his shirt off, using it to wipe the sweat and grime off his face every now and then, leaving him bare-chested. It’s as his back is starting to hurt and he’s thinking of taking a break that a voice calls out.

“Hey! You burying a body back there?”

Derek pauses, leaning on the shovel and turning his head. It’s Stiles; he’s grinning cheerfully and waving.

“Maybe,” Derek calls out, his stomach doing somersaults. “Why, you wanna help?”

“Sure,” Stiles says agreeably and actually _jumps the fence_ like a lunatic. Derek can’t help but shake his head and grin, helplessly charmed by the guy.

“How was Sacramento?”

“It was _so_ awesome, dude. I got to drive down to Berkley - which, y’know is amazing.”

“Yeah,” Derek agrees. “That’s where I go.”

Stiles looks delighted. “No _way_ , that’s where I’m going! Dude, that’s awesome!”

“You liked it?”

“You don’t even know. I wish I could go back there now.”

Derek wipes his brow before completely turning around. “You that keen to get away from me?”

Stiles grins and opens his mouth to reply before he abruptly stops in his tracks, mouth going wide as his faces loses all color.

Concerned, Derek drops the shovel and approaches him. “Hey, you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Stiles opens and closes his mouth a few times, swallowing roughly. He raises a shaky finger and points at Derek’s chest. Derek looks down expecting like, a tarantula, but it’s just his skin and his soul-mark. Maybe that makes Stiles’ uncomfortable?

“Sorry,” Derek says, “I’ll go grab another shirt.”

“No, wait!” Stiles shouts, putting his hands out, eyes still roving over Derek’s chest. “It’s just… it _is_ you.”

“...What's me?”

“It’s just you - I - no I mean _we_ … ah, fuck it…”

Looking frustrated with himself, Derek watches in bizarre wonderment as Stiles strips himself of his flannel shirt, throwing it onto the ground with fervour. Next he goes to strip his white shirt, alarming Derek into thinking he’s going to go streaking in his backyard before it all makes sense.

Over Stiles heart, a soul-mark lies like a tattoo upon his pale skin, black lines weaving itself into tangles, just like the one on Derek’s chest. In fact, they’re exactly the same.

Derek's’ heart stops, the world around him going silent. He raises a shaking hand to Stiles chest, stopping just above the mark. “You're...” he trails off.

Stiles takes his still hovering hand and presses it to the mark. It feels like every nerve in Derek’s body lights up, his fingers and toes tingling. His head is reeling with the knowledge that he hasn't missed out, he just needed to wait.

“Can I?” Stiles asks, eyes wide as he extends his hand to Derek’s chest. He nods. A wave of what feels like warm water comes over his body as Stiles skin makes contact with his mark.

“It’s been hurting for so long,” Stiles says, locking eyes with Derek as his voice cracks. “I thought I’d missed my chance.”

“Me too,” Derek exhales, moving his hand up from Stiles chest to cup his neck. Stiles mirrors his movement until they’re just breathing and staring at each other.

“What now?” Stiles asks.

Derek’s eyes flicker between Stiles mouth and his eyes. 

“Ask me that question from last week.”

Stiles answering smile is blinding, if not a little nervous. “Okay, uhh... Derek, would you like to go out with me sometime?”

“Yeah,” Derek says softly.

“Awesome,” Stiles breathes, moving a step closer.

“I would have said yes then, too,” Derek adds, needing Stiles to know his answer isn't just because they’re fated.

“I have another question.”

“Yeah?”

“...Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.”

Stiles tilts his head slightly and leans in to softly bring their lips together, raising his arms to wrap them around Derek’s neck. Derek’s arms snake down to hold Stiles around his waist, pressing back into the kiss. They stay like that for a while, chest to chest, trading soft, sweet kisses, learning each others’ mouths and the shape of their lips, the warmth of their tongues. Stiles fits perfectly against him.

"I am going to woo the shit out of you," Stiles says when they part.

Derek smiles and kisses him again.

Later they will get their families together and tell them the good news. For now, Derek is happy to stay like this. They have all the time in the world for everything else. The rest of their lives, apparently.

In their future together, Derek’s mark never hurts again.


End file.
